Warm as Ice
by PaBurke
Summary: Benton Fraser finds someone hiding out in his father's cabin.
1. Chapter 1

Warm as Ice

By PaBurke

Summary: Krit escaped north from Manicore because he didn't know what to do with warmth. He was not prepared for what he found.

Spoilers: 'And Jesus Brought a Casserole' for Dark Angel (Season One). And the Season One finale of Due South.

Benton Fraser knew that something had gotten into his father's cabin when he returned from his duty in Chicago. He had an extended leave of absence to put the cabin in order. From the mess that didn't reach past his shoulder and it being concentrated around the food stores, the Mountie was expecting something four-legged. So he had his gun ready, rarely did dinner come to him.

And this time it didn't either. Deifenbaker led the way to the root cellar. The varmint was a two-legged boy, poorly dressed for the weather (even though he had borrowed one of his father's wool jackets).

Granted, Benton's initial greeting lacked culture (Oh! This is a surprise.) but at least he put the gun away immediately. The boy was staring at him, like a wolf cub, and still stuffing uncooked rice into his mouth.

"Well, since you're that hungry," Benton said kindly, "You must stay for dinner." He knew better than to take the bag away from the boy, so he reached for another one. Benton knew that the boy's eyes were following his every movement and especially noting the location of the gun.

Benton hurriedly cooked up a filling meal. He served it up on a plate and then slid the plate with a fork over to where the boy was staring at him. Then he prepared his own plate and sat across from the child. As he ate, he filled the silence with chatter.

"My name's Benton Fraser and this is my cabin, or rather my father's but he left it to me several years ago. I'm glad that you came to visit, as it gets rather lonely here." Benton was relieved to see that the boy was using the supplied fork instead of his fingers. But he was still eating much too fast. "Slow down," he warned. "You'll get a horrible stomachache eating so fast, not to mention what the uncooked rice will be doing to your digestive system."

To his eternal surprise, the boy obeyed the suggestion. Benton smiled and continued talking. "I'm a Mountie, otherwise known as Canada's Northwest Mounted Police. This is my wolf, Deifenbaker. He's deaf."

That sparked a sliver of interest, so Benton told the whole story of how the dog jumped into freezing water to save him and forever paid the price. Benton continued talking until he couldn't think of anything to say. Finally he asked, "What's your name?"

The boy debated internally. It forever to hear, "Krit, sir." He was more polite than Benton had expected.

Benton grinned. "Delighted to meet you, Krit. I hope you'll be staying for a while."

The boy didn't really respond, but Benton didn't let that bother him. He pointed at his guest bed. "You can sleep there. I'll be sleeping in that bunk. If you stay, I'll be asking you to do chores, bringing in the split wood, making your bed, etcetera. I'd love to teach you how to drive a dog sled and to live off the land." He smiled. "There is much food to be found if you know how to forage."

It got dark early, so Benton pulled out the lanterns and lit them. Krit really wasn't inclined to speak and Benton was used to Deif carrying the conversation. It was a night as quiet as most this cabin had witnessed.

When Benton started getting ready for bed, Krit imitated the actions. "Do you want the light encase you need to visit the restroom during the night?" The gift of the bathroom from Ray was never more appreciated than now.

"No sir."

"Are you sure?"

"I have very good night vision, sir."

"That's good. You will need that up here."

Benton checked the windows and doors and then blew out the lamp. It took a little while to adjust himself on his bed but finally he slept soundly. When he woke up, it was to a muttered breath as a log fell to the cabin floor. Benton calmly opened his eyes. Krit was filling the wood bin. Benton stretched and stood.

Krit rushed to his bed to stand in front of it.

At attention.

His bed was made. Benton didn't even need to toss a quarter on it to know that it had been done correctly. "Very good, Krit," Benton complimented. "I couldn't have done better myself," he said honestly. He reached for his wallet and pulled out a five dollar bill (Canadian) and handed it to the boy.

His eyes got very wide, but he made no move to accept the money. "Sir?"

"It's yours. You earned it."

"No, sir. You said that if I completed chores, you would teach me how to live off the land. That is an equitable exchange." That was obviously what Krit desired, not to need to depend on anyone.

Benton blinked. The child had an American accent but didn't act like any child (American or Canadian) that he had ever met. Benton used the restroom and then went outside to take care of the dogs. When he returned, Krit had made his bed with the same dexterity and precision as his own.

"Krit," Benton hedged (he had spent too much time in the lower 48, if he was capable of hedging). "I understand that you are excited to learn, but it takes years, decades to be able to fully live off the land."

"I'm a quick study, sir."

"So I see."

"If you would tell me the rest of the chores that I'm responsible for, I'd be pleased to finish them."

Benton glanced around the tiny cabin and scratched his chin. "Can you cook?"

"No, sir, but I can learn."

"You get some water from the well and start it boiling and I'll hem some clothes for you."

"Sir, my clothes are satisfactory. I do not want to be beholding."

"Now see, you wouldn't be beholding. You need some clothes to blend in and I can help with that."

"So teach me, sir."

Benton smiled. "Go get the water while I get the supplies."

"Yes, sir."

The first day was spent cooking, cleaning and sewing. Benton was pleased that the boy now had a set of clothes that fit him better, though he worried about the cold. He also worried about keeping the barcode tattoo covered at all times. The Northern temperatures would drop quickly and Krit needed more to survive that weather. The boy was a quick study as he promised. Rarely did Benton have to tell him something twice and if he had to repeat it a third time, Krit would apologize profusely.

Benton worried about Krit, how he knew some things so well and others not at all. The boy was incredibly obedient and he shied slightly when Benton got too close, obviously a result of physical abuse. Once, Benton had clapped him on the shoulder for a job well done and Krit winced obviously and then apologized. (Benton had also noticed the extra warmth he was emanating, the fever that never went away.)

Benton, of course, had apologized in return and promised to respect his personal space more. That had confused Krit. He had had no problem stripping when Benton had been measuring the clothes for his use. He had no problems when Benton was teaching him how to rock climb. Krit was a very good belayer and an excellent rapeller. He was good at the physical parts of learning to survive. It took him longer to identify eatable plants, but even then he was a quick learner.

Benton enjoyed teaching and he hoped that Krit enjoyed learning just as much. Time passed quickly and one day, before Benton awoke in the morning, Krit had disappeared.

Benton knew that Krit wasn't ready to be one his own and so he tracked the boy. Krit had managed to traverse a great distance before Benton caught up, most of it straight up a mountain and into the tundra.

Benton found Krit. He was sitting in the snow, shaking horribly. Benton knew that it wasn't the chattering that was a precursor to hypothermia. He also had a vague idea of why Krit was seizing. He reached into his pack and brought out the pills that Ray had sent him and forced several down Krit's throat. He held the boy close until he stopped shivering.

The boy was already so very cold. Benton wrapped him in blankets and carried him back to the cabin. Krit never woke up. Finally they made it back to warmth. Benton convinced Deifenbaker to share Krit's bed and nursed the boy back to health.

Or he tried. Most of it was Krit's choice.

*

Krit roused.

He had heard very little of the afterlife, but if there was a good place, a high place, this was it. The smells identified it as _not_ being Manticore. He was warm. He wasn't in pain. He could feel a heartbeat on his feet. He wasn't alone.

He couldn't tell if he was with one of his brother's or sister's. He didn't care.

Then he felt movement and peeked through his eyelids.

Benton Fraser, RCMP.

He was cooking. He was always taking care of someone. Krit had hid whenever there were the rare visitors to the cabin, but Benton had always helped the others. Krit wasn't a special case, though none of the others had been invited to sleep in the cabin.

That meant that the heartbeat and the warmth on his feet was the half-wolf. The canine shifted a bit and put his nose under Krit's hand. The canine had done this several times before and Krit still felt at a loss, even if he petted the animal.

A medicine bottle on the table by the bed caught his attention.

Trypophan.

Krit reached out to grab it.

A brand new bottle. It was full. He had run out days before leaving for the mountain top. He hadn't wanted the shakes that had taken Jake. He wanted the cold, the freedom, and the mountain. Benton hadn't let him die out there. He had given Krit exactly what he needed.

"It's yours," Benton spoke.

Krit met the kind man's eyes.

"The tryptophan. I had a friend send me an entire crate of it. It's out in the shed. Next time you feel the need to leave, please take it with you."

"How did you know?"

Benton smiled. "It's a small cabin, Krit, and we are living in each other's pockets."

And the man was very observant. His eyes shouldn't be as good as Krit's transgenic eyes, but Benton saw just as much.

He looked apologetic now. "If I had known just how low your stores had gotten, I would have given you another bottle," Benton promised.

"I know," Krit whispered. Benton hated to see anything suffering.

Krit decided then that he would never leave, even if Benton could no longer teach him. Two months later, a contingent of red-coated, horse mounted men destroyed his hope. Krit had seen them coming and had warned Benton.

Benton had met them at the edge of the property and talked with them. Krit couldn't hear the words, but he could see the tension in Benton's posture, so unlike what he was used to seeing in the man. Finally one of the men separated from the others and with him was a riderless horse. That horse was for Benton.

Krit stayed hidden until Benton called for him.

Benton looked extremely sad as he introduced Krit to his CO and explained that he had to leave.

"I'll go with you," Krit said.

"Krit, you can't. Things have happened out there and a lot of scared people are panicking and hurting each other. We're going to restore order. It's going to dangerous."

"I'll go with you."

"Krit. There's an Inuit family not far from here who will gladly take you in."

Krit was not about to be left behind. "I can take care of the dogs for you. You'll need them. Any hysteria would lead to disruptions in the supply chain, especially for fuel. That's why they came on horses."

"True." Benton wasn't surprised at the boy's deduction. "It's still too dangerous. If we take the dogs, I'll find a local boy to help."

Krit really didn't like the idea of anyone doing his job. He didn't like being replaceable. He didn't like Benton being anywhere that Krit couldn't watch his six. And Krit could watch Benton's six better than anyone else, even better than Benton knew. "Any place you take me, I'll leave. And I'll track you down." Krit couldn't believe he was being so bold. He was refusing a strong suggestion, Benton never gave him orders. He didn't know if he could refuse an order from the kind man.

The CO finally spoke up. "He can come."

Benton was surprised and actually said, "sir?"

"He's obviously smart and made up his mind. If you've been teaching him anything, he'll be able to follow. But son," the CO fixed his eyes on Krit, "You will be expected to work hard, keep up and follow orders. Is that understood?"

Krit fixed his eyes forward, stood at parade rest and responded briskly. "Sir, yes, sir."

"My name is Buck Frobisher, son. Use it."

Krit nodded.

"Pack up, boys. We're going to be gone for a while."

Benton nodded. "Krit, put all of the dog food into the dog sled and harness the dogs, as well as any perishable supplies."

"Yessir." Krit ran off to obey.

Buck looked at Benton. "There's a story to that one."

"Yes sir, but I believe he will be in danger if any investigate it."

Buck nodded. "So be it. He's your responsibility. I have no doubt that you two will do right by each other."

"Yes sir."

"Krit is a rare name. We'll refer to him as Chris. Is that clear, boy?" Buck noticed that the boy had returned quickly, quietly and with all the supplies that Benton had indicated.

"Sir, yes sir," Krit responded.

"Just a 'yes, sir' boy. We don't want to draw any attention to you."

"Yes, sir," the child corrected himself.

Buck shook his head one last time and left the shed. He was whistling a tune that Krit did not know. The boy shook off his unease and turned to his guardian. "Sir?"

"Harness the dogs. I'll put together a pack for each of us, grab whatever you deem necessary."

"I've already packed the tryptophan."

"Very well then, we shall be off shortly."

Krit didn't care about the future, so long as he was in the company of Benton Fraser.

*


	2. Chapter 2

Steady as Wind

By PaBurke

Summary: Syl ran east from Manicore. She never expected to meet a friend of the transgenics in the Chicago PD.

Spoilers: 'And Jesus Brought a Casserole' for Dark Angel (Season One). And the Season One finale of Due South. Sequel to 'Warm as Ice.'

*da*ds* da*ds* da*ds*

"Bennie!"

Krit jackknifed in bed, his hand curling around the blade under his pillow. Benton frowned upon him having a gun, but turned a blind eye to knives that he might acquire. Krit glared at the balding man who had invaded their tiny temporary housing and now wrapped Benton in an extended hug.

"Ray," Benton grinned as he returned the hug. "You're looking good."

"You too, you too."

"What are you doing here? I'm surprised the chief let you come."

Ray shrugged and grinned some more. Krit decided that he didn't like this man who received more than a polite response from Benton. "I'm here to see you. The chief insisted. We're hoping that we can talk you into coming back to the states. We could really use your help."

Benton shook his head. "You know I can't. I'm needed here to keep the order."

"I guessed. But that was just how I talked the chief into letting me come. I really wanted to meet the kid that has you asking me for favors."

"Chris?" Benton called. Krit rushed to his guardian's side, his dark eyes glaring at Ray. Benton didn't notice.

Ray might have, but what he said was, "I thought the name was Krit."

"Frobisher suggested that the name was too unusual."

"Good point." Ray held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Chris. How's your medicine holding up?"

"Good, sir." Krit shook the stranger's hand because that would be how Benton would want it.

"Fraser?" new voice joined the conversation. A head poked into the tiny room where Krit and Benton stayed.

"Frobisher," Ray greeted him.

"Detective Veccico, I need to borrow Fraser for a moment."

Ray smiled and waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. I want to get to know Kri…s here. Take all the time you need." Ray only waited until the two red-suited men left and closed the door. Then he whirled on Krit with unexpected speed and seriousness. "Let's get one thing straight, kid: You hurt Bennie, or take advantage of him and I will hunt you down and make you pay. I don't care how fast or smart Bennie says you are, I will find you and I damn will get you. Capech?

Krit blinked at the fierceness. He had thought that he was the only one in Benton's sphere capable of such feeling. "Understood, sir. I am here to ensure that no one can hurt Benton."

Ray judged his intentions and finally nodded. "Good luck there. Bennie worst enemy's himself. Jumping outta windows…"

Krit nodded. "I have noticed, sir. He does have excellent balance though."

"I've noticed," Ray said back. A beat. "We good?"

"We are united in our goals."

"Good. I'm guessing that since Bennie asked me to get the supplements that someone might try to find you through them."

Krit paused to re-evaluate the American before him. He was smarter than he looked. He was completely loyal to Benton. He was their first line of defense. "True."

"What should I be on the lookout for?"

"A man named Donald Lydecker. He could have any of a number of identifications, military or CIA most probable. He will have pictures, of several children my age and he'll mention the tattoo on the back of our necks. He will kill anyone in his way."

Ray nodded and then became curious. "Can I see your tat?"

Krit hesitated. Benton had gone out of his way to hide the markings, but this man was his friend. Finally he turned around and waited. The hand was gentle, but clumsy. Krit could hear the sharp intake of breath and then the hands turned Krit to face Ray. The man was leaning down into Krit's face, but he wasn't trying to intimidate this time.

"If anything happens to Bennie, promise me that you will come straight for me. I've got an entire city to hide you in. Promise me." The hands tightened and shook slightly.

"I… I promise."

Ray sighed with relief and then he pulled out a business card, wrote on the back and handed it to Krit. "This has all my numbers, my address and even my mom's phone number and my boss's number. For them, just say you're a friend from Canada and they'll let you stay."

Krit read the numbers, memorized them and then tossed the business card into the nearby fire. When he turned back to Ray, the man was flabbergasted.

"You memorized all that, that fast?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wow. Uh- okay." He tore his eyes away from the flames. "Wow. That's good though. I… Uh… need to go find Bennie. I need to be getting back to Chicago. It was good meeting you, Chris."

"You as well, sir." This time, their handshake was much more pleasant. Ray even used their joined hands to pull Krit close enough for a one-armed hug. Krit tolerated the show of affection.

"You take care of yourself, you hear? And take good care of Bennie, too."

Krit showed respect in the only way he knew how: he saluted briskly and said, "Sir, yes, sir."

Ray looked sad, but nodded and left.

Krit wondered at the changes in himself that would allow him to trust an American such as Ray Veccico and so soon.

*da*ds* da*ds* da*ds*

"Stupid kid," Ray overheard Louis tell his partner. "Shaking like a junkie and yet didn't take the good stuff from the hospital. What the hell is tryptophan supposed to treat anyhow? It doesn't have any street value. She probably won't get more than a slap on the wrist and a trip to juvie. The least she can do is tell us how she got in."

Ray told himself that it was just stupid curiosity that made him leave his desk and peek through the one-way mirror. The girl there was just a kid, like Louis had said. She had blondish hair and it was in the same outgrown, shorn style as Krit.

And she was shaking like a junkie.

Ray remembered the letters from Bennie, the ones that he had burned immediately after meeting Krit, talking about symptoms and strange children. This was a friend of Krit's, Ray knew it in his gut. He went out to his car and grabbed a bottle of tryptophan from the glove compartment. He paused outside, listening to the sirens and the traffic sounds of the city as he decided. It could be a trap, but that girl was shaking and in pain.

He was going to do it.

He walked back into the building and into the interrogation room. Huey and Louie were no where to be seen. They hadn't been in the observation room as he passed.

"Hi there," he said brightly as he dropped the supplement bottle on the table in from of the girl. "My name's Ray Veccico, but you can call me Detective Veccico. What's your name?"

The girl blinked at the bottle and finally tore her eyes away from the label.

Ray snapped his fingers. "Name? What's your name, kid? I've got a friend I send this to and he's going to want to know who got some of his pills."

"Liar," she finally spat out.

"Krit," Ray replied.

She froze and judged Ray's posture. Finally she grabbed the bottle with shaking hands, opened it and tossed back a handful of pills dry.

"I'm sorry; I forgot to grab some water."

She shrugged, but made no move to release the bottle.

"So do you have a name?"

"Syl, sir."

Ray held out his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Syl."

Syl didn't shake his hand, just stared at him and Ray could have groaned. He had a fair idea as to the procedure of taming or domesticating a feral cat and he knew damn well that he didn't have the patience for it. Only Bennie had the patience for something this wild.

In the end, he left the interrogation door cracked and made sure Syl's file never was entered into the computer. He had figured that that was his good deed of the day until he caught sight of a lithe shadow outside his house.

He sighed, fixed up a plate of food and left it and a fork on the back steps. It was cleaned –with soap and water- come morning.

He really wasn't going to do this, was he?

*da*ds* da*ds* da*ds*

He left dinner on the back porch for five nights running and then a case had made it so he didn't make it home until two am. Exhausted, he had fallen into bed, only to jerk awake early the next morning feeling guilty. He threw on his bathrobe over his shoulders and hurried down the stairs. He was in the kitchen and riffling through the contents of his fridge for something for the girl when he realized that he wasn't alone.

Syl was sitting on his kitchen counter, hands and face carefully washed. She was so still, she could have been a statue. She had her bottle of tryptophan beside her.

She had started the coffee.

"Uh…" Ray realized that his robe was hanging open and quickly fixed that. Syl relaxed slightly. "I… uh… I'm going to go put some clothes on." He went upstairs to do just that.

Ray, changed clothes, splashed some water on his face and knew that he still wasn't firing on all cylinders. To do that, he'd need coffee, which was downstairs with the girl. Finally he returned to the kitchen. Syl pointed to a mug on the table.

It had coffee in it. Ray took a sip to test it and was surprised that it was exactly how he liked it, with a bit of sugar, no cream. Hadn't Bennie said something about Krit being observant? And if Bennie mentioned it than Krit had to be really, really observant. Syl must be the same way.

Why was Ray trying to help someone so much smarter than him?

Then Syl hopped off the countertop and the top of her head wasn't even half-way up his chest. That's right, she's just a kid, with a problem.

The coffee was starting to kick in. "Do you need more tryptophan?"

"No, Detective Veccico."

"Oh, good. Food?"

"Yes, Detective Veccico."

"I was just giving you a hard time about the Detective Veccico stuff. Just call me Ray. Okay?"

Syl considered it.

"Really, I'd really prefer if you called me Ray."

"Yes sir."

"That'll work for now." Ray returned to the fridge and started pawing around. His mom had taken it upon herself to buy his food even though he moved out of the house. Ray didn't mind so much as he was paying for it and for a good portion of the rest of his family's food. His police job was secure, as was Frannie's.

He noticed that Mom's farm contact was back in business as he had a full dozen eggs in his fridge. And he hadn't eaten the bread for a while. French toast would be better than leftovers. He grabbed the eggs and bacon grease and turned on a burner. The eggs went on the counter; the grease went into a pan than ended up on the lit burner.

"Syl, grab the bread behind you and there should be square cornware under that counter."

Syl obeyed immediately, lining the requested items on the counter before Ray could find the right spices in the cupboard.

"Crack three… how hungry are you?"

"Rather, sir."

"Then crack four eggs into the cornware." Ray wished for milk, but he couldn't have everything. He sprinkled in the spices and then found a fork. He whipped the concoction and then dunked the first piece of toast into the mixture. Syl was watching him in what he hoped like hell wasn't parade rest.

She was too quiet.

"The plates are in that cupboard, glasses there and forks and knives over here. You can set the table. There's honey and real maple syrup in the pantry." He missed powdered sugar and peanut butter.

Syl had the table set by the time that the first French toast was done. Ray slid it onto her plate and continued cooking. When he noticed that she wasn't eating yet, he urged her to. "That won't taste nearly as good cold."

She ate warily, as one who didn't know that kids got to start eating first.

Wild cat, Ray reminded himself. Why did she attach herself to him? And how many different ways would he screw this up?

Syl eagerly ate every piece of French toast Ray served her, to the point where he was afraid that she was going to burst. Ray was worried that she was still hungry when the food had been consumed, but she gave no indication. She merely picked up her place and utensils and washed them in the soapy water that Ray hadn't noticed before. As soon as Ray stood, Syl took his place setting and washed them as well.

"I've got to get to work, lock up when you leave," he told her.

He was fully expecting the house to be empty when he returned.

*da*ds* da*ds* da*ds*

The house was locked up when he returned. Ray didn't know whether to rejoice or mope. He really didn't get a chance to do either. When he turned around from hanging up his coat, Syl was there, still as a soldier waiting to be inspected.

"Oh! Hey." Ray looked around and could smell the cleaning fluid emanating from all points of his house. "The place looks good." It looked like she had been on her hands and knees scrubbing. At least Syl's body didn't look the worse for wear. His stomach growled. "Did you eat?"

Syl shook her head no.

"Let's eat."

Ray fixed dinner and instructed Syl when he thought about it. She was so quiet and still, so not-child-like and that burned Ray's anger. Food was consumed with very little conversation and Ray missed the riotous words that normally surrounded a family meal. He missed Bennie.

Finally he broached the topic that he had been considering all day. "You know…" he trailed off at Syl's quiet stare then gathered his courage and tried again. "I have a guest room. It has a lock on the door. If you want you can stay here?"

Syl thought about it. "Thank you, sir," she finally said.

"Ray," he corrected her.

"Ray," she echoed after a moment.

Ray grinned at her. This might just work after all. "I'll give you a key to the house so that you don't have to break in every time."

"Thank you, sir."

*da*ds* da*ds* da*ds*


End file.
